


Stanford Days

by Jld71



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Injury, M/M, Marriage, Mutual Pining, Permanent Injury, Pining, Sibling Incest, Top Sam Winchester, Wheelchairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 08:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19225780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jld71/pseuds/Jld71
Summary: Sam gets a call in the middle of the night regarding Dean that forces him to confront his buried feelings for his brother, once he’s by Dean’s side. Dean had broken all contact with Sam; wanting Sam to have a chance at a ‘normal’ life. The feelings Dean thought he had locked away for Sam coming rushing back when Sam cons his way into his hospital room. Can they heal old wounds while dealing with Dean’s life changing injury and their love for each other?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do Not Re-Post Without My Written Permission - Only To Be Posted On My AO3 Or LiveJournal Accounts.
> 
> Written for the 2019 Wincest Reverse Bang  
> Artist: bluefire986  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/19227508  
> Beta: yonkyu

Stanford Days

**Things had been different.**

There were things Dean Winchester remembered from that night and things he couldn’t. He remembered thinking about Sam, how he missed him. He remembered the hunt. He and their father, John, were after a vengeful ghost. He remembered their fight as they drove to the rundown apartment building. He remembered confronting the ghost and then being attacked. He remembered the window and then falling. And then things had gone dark. He couldn’t remember hitting the ground. He couldn’t remember laying on the hard ground or the cold seeping into his skin. He couldn’t remember not being able to move. He couldn’t remember his father screaming his name. He couldn’t remember the panic in his father’s voice. He couldn’t remember the ambulance ride or being wheeled into the emergency room. He couldn’t remember the first few days of being in the hospital.

**That had been the beginning of the end of his life as he had known it.**

They had been fighting a lot lately, he and his father and it was always over the same thing, Sam. John had been driving the Impala, slamming his hand against the steering wheel in anger over and over again until he had erupted. “Sam’s gone because of you,” John had snarled at him.

Dean had turned in his seat and looked at him, anger and disbelief flashing in his green eyes at hearing his father’s words. “Me?” he had asked incredulously. “What the hell did I do?” he demanded.

“Yes, you!” John had yelled. “You encouraged him. Don’t think I didn’t hear you two talking late at night. You filling his head up with that nonsense that he’s smart. That he deserves better than a life as a hunter.”

“He is, he does,” he had managed to get out from behind gritted teeth. He had been clenching his jaw so tight it had hurt. He was surprised he hadn’t broken any teeth from how hard his jaw was clamped down. He knew he’d have a headache later from it.

“Bullshit. He should be here, following in the family business. Helping us out.” John had turned his attention back to the road, effectively ending the conversation. He turned the car onto the broken asphalt road that led to the apartment building they had been heading toward without another look at Dean.

Dean wasn’t having that. He was here with their father. He was always there, being a good little soldier, following John’s orders, doing everything that had ever been asked of him. It had always been assumed that he would be there; go into the hunter’s life. No one had asked him what he wanted. Well, that wasn’t true. Sam had asked him; he had just never answered his brother. Sam had even tried to get him to leave when Sam had. But he hadn’t and now he had wished he had packed his bags and followed Sam’s lead. “So what? I’m not good enough for you? Sam’s the favorite. I’ve know that since I was four.” He turned away from John, pushed open the car door before the car had even come to a complete stop and jumped out. John’s lack of a response was all he had needed to hear. The silence was deafening and he had his answer. Fucking precious Sam Winchester, his younger brother. He missed Sam so much, it hurt.

Yes, he had pushed Sam toward college. It had been the right thing to do for the younger man. Sam deserved better than the life he and their father led. Hunting was a shitty life and he wanted so much more for him. Sam was smart and had earned his place at Stanford. He wasn’t about to take that away from his brother. So, at night when John wasn’t around or had been asleep, at least they had thought the older man had been asleep, he had talked to Sam, encouraged him to follow his dreams of getting out from under their father’s control. To make a life for himself. He had to do it, if he hadn’t he would have ended up doing something stupid. He loved Sam. He loved Sam more than a brother should and he wasn’t about to put that burden on Sam’s shoulders. He had helped Sam pack, bought him the bus ticket that would take him to California and had dropped him off at the bus station. That had been the hardest thing for him to do; to watch as Sam walked away from him, to let Sam go, knowing Sam was heading to a better life, one without him in it. If Sam stayed all he would have ended up doing was pulling Sam down; like he was the proverbial stone tied around Sam’s neck. He hadn’t been able to breathe as he watched from the parking lot as Sam had climbed onto the bus. It had felt like he was dying; like his heart had been ripped out of his body when the door to the bus had closed and the bus pulled away from the curb. No, it had been the best for them both he had told himself. That had become his mantra. He repeated it every day. He had to so he wouldn’t pick up the phone and call Sam. It wouldn’t have been fair to the younger man, not after he had broken off all contact with him.

He had ended up at a bar that night, trying to drown his sorrow, mourning the loss of the one person he loved. His cell had rung and he had ignored it, knowing it was their father calling, demanding answers. He couldn’t deal with that. He let the first few calls go to voicemail before turning his phone off. He would take the brunt of the man’s anger tomorrow when he was sober. He had felt movement next to him and he turned to his right to see some kid pulling out the empty stool. The kid had flashed him a smile and a nod in acknowledgement. He tilted his bottle of beer back at him and then took a long pull from it.

“I’m Tony,” the kid had told him.

“Dean,” he said and took another sip of beer, not thinking much of it or wanting to make a new friend.

“So, I haven’t seen you here before,” Tony commented.

“Just in town for a few days.”

“Yeah?” Tony responded and then had placed his left hand on Dean’s right bicep; his fingers squeezing the muscle.

He had looked down at the hand and then up into the kid’s face. He looked nothing like Sam, but he reminded him of Sam. Maybe it had been the alcohol he had consumed. He had been on his third beer, after doing a couple of shots of whiskey. Normally, he would have told the kid to get his hand off him before he broke his fingers, but that night he hadn’t. That night he had needed something, anything that would make him forget what he had let go, who he had lost.

“You wanna get outta here?” he had asked and watched as Tony’s face split into a wide grin.

“Hell, yeah,” Tony had said before he drained his beer and then followed Dean outside.

He had let the guy fuck him that night. They hadn’t even made it out of the parking lot. He had let the guy bend him over the trunk of the Impala and fuck him until they had both been panting and sated. He had moaned Sam’s name as the guy had pounded into him; wishing it had been Sam, wanting it to be Sam who was fucking him. He felt the guy pull out of him and back off. He had pulled his jeans up, redressing himself and had turned around to see the guy tying off the condom and tossing it into the bushes, his pants up around his waist, but not zipped up.

“Who’s Sam?” Tony had inquired.

“No one,” he had shot back. He couldn’t go there right now. The wound was too raw, it hurt too much. “Thanks for the fuck,” he said as he slid behind the wheel of the Impala and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving the guy in his rearview mirror.

Dean shook his head, trying to clear his head of that memory. It only made him miss Sam more. The feeling of betrayal would come crashing down on him if he didn’t stop thinking about that night. Even though there had never been anything between him and Sam, it still felt like he had betrayed Sam. Okay, there had been something between them, he had to admit to himself. He had to be honest. There had been those tentative kisses exchanged between them. It had been experimental at first. Neither having anyone else to rely on, to be with. But, then he had seen the looks that Sam would shoot him when Sam didn’t think he was watching. Those looks told him everything; that Sam loved him, wanted him and he couldn’t do that to his brother. He couldn’t taint him like that. No, he had pushed Sam toward college to give him a chance at the normal, apple pie life. As much as it had hurt to let Sam go, he had done the right thing.

“Wait!” John had yelled to Dean and then threw him a shotgun packed with rock salt.

Dean turned back to the older man, hoping his father was about to tell him he had been wrong. That he was more than enough. That John loved him just as much, if not more than Sam. He was after all, John’s first born son. He should have known better when all his father had done was toss him a shotgun. “Whatever,” he mumbled as he made his way around the back of the building. He had picked the lock and made his way around the building, ending up on the fifth floor. He had heard a sound and had turned around to see the ghost coming at him. He had stepped back to give himself some room to fire the shotgun. But, he had stumbled on something and had lost his footing. He tried to stabilize himself, but that hadn’t worked and then he had felt the back of his legs hit the windowsill. He heard the sound of breaking glass and then he was falling. And then nothing.

Sam remembered the call from his father. It had been the middle of the night when his cell phone had gone off. The ringing of the phone had jolted him awake and instantly he had known it was bad news. “Hello?” he had asked in a ragged voice, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. He heard his father’s voice and his blood had run cold in his veins.

“Sam,” John’s rough voice called from the other end of the line.

“Dad?” he had barely managed to get out before his father was speaking.

“It’s Dean. He’s hurt,” John had rasped out.

“How bad?” Sam had asked, feeling his body tense. Dean . . . was hurt.

“It’s bad. Doctor doesn’t think he’ll ever walk again,” John whispered into the phone.

“Where are you?” Sam had asked in a near panic. “I’m on my way.” He scrambled from the bed, trying to turn the light on and get dressed at the same time.

“No, no, stay where you are. Dean doesn’t want to see anyone right now,” John stated.

“What?!” Sam had asked in disbelief. “I don’t care. I wanna see him. Where is he?” he had demanded.

“Seneca Hospital near Clear Creek. He’s in the rehabilitation center. But it doesn’t matter if you wanna see him. He’s banned everyone from his room. The attendants stop you. If you’re on the list, they turn you away. I tried and security forced me out,” John had said wearily.

“You’re in California?” he croaked out, not believing that Dean or his father were even in the same state that he was. He felt that familiar ache knowing that Dean was so close, yet so far from him. He still didn’t understand why Dean had refused to speak to him. What had he done to upset his older brother so much? He wondered that every day. The only explanation he could ever come up with was that Dean had figured out that he harbored sexual feeling for his older brother and Dean had been sickened by it. He missed Dean. Dean was part of him. They were family. No they were more than family, or at least he had thought that, had wanted them to be more. He forced those thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time. “What are you saying? Am I on the list?” Sam had asked, stunned by that possibility.

“Yeah, you are.” John had cleared his throat. “I just thought you should know.” There was a moment of silence before John spoke again. “He’s under the name Dean Smith, in case you call, not that they’ll tell you anything. Stubborn bastard won’t even let them discuss his condition with anyone over the phone.

Sam would have laughed at that had it not been for the fear coursing through his body. He bit back the ‘And I wonder where he gets his stubborn streak from’ retort in favor of asking his next question. “What the hell happened? Tell me!” Sam had demanded. He needed to know everything. “Tell me everything,” he had said as he sank down on his bed. He listened to his father’s words and had cried, not caring if his father heard him. Somehow the hunt for a ghost had gone wrong. John didn’t know how it had happened but Dean had fallen out of a fifth story window onto the unyielding asphalt below. Dean, the strongest of them all had been hurt. All he wanted was to get to his brother, see him, touch him, reassure Dean that he was there for him, always would be. That he loved him. That he had never stopped loving him and always would. He nearly lost it when John had told him that the fall had happened nearly five weeks ago. “Why are you just calling me now? I had a right to know. He’s Dean, he’s my brother. Why did you fucking wait?” he had screamed into the phone.

“Sam, calm down. I needed to wait. I needed to see if Dean would recover. If he would even make it,” John had said to his younger son. “I didn’t want to burden you. But, you needed to know, so I’m telling you now. Look, I gotta go. I have to make arrangements for Dean’s care.”

“You’re leaving aren’t you?” Sam had accused the older Winchester. He could hear it in his father’s voice. He knew that John Winchester was cutting his losses and running. Their father was turning his back on Dean now, like John had done to him when he had left for a chance at a future.  

“He doesn’t want me here,” John had said.

“This is your fault. If you had just let Dean leave, he’d be fine. Go, leave him when he needs you. You were never there for him, for us when we needed you. Fuck you,” Sam had screamed into the phone before ending the call. He had grabbed a duffle bag and shoved some clothes into it before he had gotten dressed. He was about to pull his dorm room door open, ready to leave when he realized he didn’t have a car. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number, praying the call would be picked up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

“Sam?” the groggy female voice said. “What time is it?” Jessica finally managed to ask.

“Jess, I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to borrow your car.”

“Wait, what?” Jess had asked in confusion.

“Please, Jess, let me borrow your car. My . . .” He couldn’t tell her who Dean really was, not now.  None of his friends knew he had an older brother, but they knew about Dean. He had poured his heart out to his friend over Dean. She knew how he had been in love with Dean. How he still was, but he had always played it off as Dean being an older boy he had grown up with. “Dean’s been hurt. He’s in Seneca Hospital.” He could hear the panic and desperation in his voice. “It’s bad. He may never walk again,” he said and let out a ragged sob. He felt the tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he brushed them away. He had to hold it together. He couldn’t cry, not now, not until he knew how bad it really was.

“No,” Jess said.

“What?” he had yelled into the phone. He couldn’t believe that Jess was doing this to him.

“No, I’ll be there in ten to pick you up. I’ll drive you,” she had said and then ended the call, not letting him argue with her.

“Thanks for doing this,” he had breathed out as he slid into the passenger’s seat and tossed the duffle bag into the back seat. He felt like he was going to fly apart. He was anxious, needing to get to Dean. In the end, it had been for the best that Jess had driven. He hadn’t been able to hold it together for the nearly five hour drive.

“I’ll wait here,” Jess had said to him as they walked through the sliding glass front doors of the hospital. He stopped long enough to see where here was. She had settled herself in one of the chairs provided in the lobby waiting room. “Take your time,” she had said and then pulled out a book from the backpack she always carried with her.  

“Thanks,” he had mumbled over his shoulder as he slipped into the elevator and pressed the number eight for the floor Dean was on. He had managed to charm the receptionist and had learn the floor Dean was on. He clenched and unclenched his hands into fists as he rode the elevator. It was taking too long. He needed to see Dean, like yesterday. Finally the elevator bell dinged, indicating he was on the right floor and the doors parted. He stepped out onto the floor and took a steadying breath. He pulled out his wallet and pulled out his ID; the one with the name Sam Wesson. Dean didn’t know about that alias. He had made the ID one night when he had needed to drink himself into oblivion when missing Dean had been too much for him to handle. He walked over to the nurses’ station and waited to be acknowledge.

The older woman sitting behind the desk looked up from her crossword puzzle. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so. I’m here to see Dean Smith. I’m his friend, Sam Wesson.” He offered her a shy smile and waited. He felt a spike of fear as she looked over a clipboard, checking for that name, even though he knew there was no way that name would be on the list .

“ID, please,” Carol, as her name tag stated, requested, and held out her hand.

He handed over his ID and hoped for the best. He watched as she gave it a cursory look and handed it back to him.

“He’s in room 805, end of the hall. Good luck,” she said as she handed him back his ID.

His face scrunched up in confusion as he asked, “What do you mean ‘Good luck’?”

“He’s sullen, withdrawn. You’re the first person to visit him, other than the gentleman who found him. Even then, he wouldn’t let the man see him,” she offered with a sad smile before turning her attention back to her crossword puzzle.

“Oh,” was his response before he walked away in the direction of Dean’s room. He came to a stop in front of the room and stood there, waiting for his courage to catch up with him. He hadn’t seen Dean in nearly a year and he was nervous. He hadn’t wanted their reunion to be like this. But, he needed to see Dean. He reached out a shaking hand and softly knocked on the door. When he didn’t get a response, he stood there, debating on whether to knock again or just go in. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice from behind him.

“He’s probably asleep. He had a restless night,” a male voice told him

Sam whirled around to see a man standing behind him. He looked to be in his early thirties and was wearing hospital scrubs. “You a friend of his?” the man inquired

“Yeah, we grew up together,” he said with a shake of his head. "Who are you?” Sam asked. He narrowed his eyes as he looked the man over.

“Name’s Alan. I’m one of the orderlies on the floor. I’ve been helping Dean out, when he let’s me,” he said with a chuckle.

“How bad is it?” Sam asked and felt his heart clench in his chest.

“Bad enough,” Alan said with a sad smile before he looked away.

Sam felt his vision begin to swim and reached out a hand and placed it against the wall to steady himself. Their father’s words rang in his ears, ‘It’s bad’ and now he had been told it was ‘Bad enough’.    

“Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you.” Alan reached out and placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Look, he could use a friend right now, someone who cares about him. Just go sit with him,” he said and patted Sam’s shoulder before he walked away.

Sam closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. This wasn’t about him. This was about Dean. Dean needed him right now. He opened his eyes, reached out and grabbed the door handle, pulled the door open and silently slipped into the room. He shuffled into the room and came to stand by Dean’s bed. He couldn’t breathe as he looked down at Dean. Dean had looked so broken laying in the hospital bed. His skin was so pale and even in sleep he had dark circles under his eyes. He forced himself to grab the chair and positioned it next to the bed. He sat down before his legs buckled. “Dean,” he whispered and then grabbed Dean’s hand, needing to touch the man lying in the hospital bed. He needed to reassure himself that Dean was really there. He held on for dear life, not moving or letting go of Dean’s hand until he felt a tug to his hand. He looked up to see shocked green eyes looking at him, studying him. He smiled at seeing those eyes again. “Dean,” he whispered and then felt Dean pull his hand free from his grasp.

“Wha . . . What are you doing here? How . . .” He could feel his anger rising. He knew how Sam had found out. Their father had called Sam and opened his damn mouth, even after he had told John he didn’t want Sam to know. He knew Sam would had dropped everything to get to the hospital and he had been right. “Dad. I told him not to bother you,” Dean said angrily. “Get out,” Dean grunted and turned his face away from Sam.

“No, Dean, please. I needed to see you. I had to make sure you were alright.” He knew those words had been a poor choice when he saw Dean stiffen. He winced when he heard Dean’s voice, full of rage speaking to him.

“Alright? See if I’m alright?” Dean looked at Sam, his face contorted with anger. “Newsflash Sammy, I’m not. I’ll never walk again.” He saw the sadness in Sam’s eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Happy? You saw for yourself. Now get out,” he said evenly and then looked away from Sam. He couldn’t take seeing Sam, not now, not like this. He was broken. He would never walk again and he couldn’t handle that along with having Sam’s pity directed at him.

“No,” Sam countered back stubbornly. “No, you don’t get to do this. I love you. I’m here for you. I want to be here with you. Don’t shut me out. Not again,” he pleaded. “I’ve missed you. Tell me what I did. Why did you shut me out? I thought we . . .” He bit his bottom lip, uncertain on what he was saying, where he was going with his words. “I thought we meant something to each other. More than brothers.” There he had said it, even if this hadn’t been the right time or place. But, he had said it and now he had to wait for Dean’s reaction.

Dean’s head snapped back so he could look at Sam. Had he heard Sam right? Sam had seen him as more than just his older brother? Before he could say anything, Sam stood and hovered over him. He felt Sam’s hands cupping his cheeks, leaning in closer to him and then Sam was kissing him. He felt his resolve break and he reached up, buried his fingers in Sam’s soft locks and kissed him back.

“I love you,” Sam murmured against Dean’s lips. “I’ve always loved you. I’ve always wanted you. Still want you,” he said as he broke the kiss. He could feel his tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t bother wiping them away. He was to afraid to let Dean go. He leaned his forehead against Dean’s and breathed in deeply, trying to steady the erratic beating of his heart. “Please Dean, please say you love me. Please say you want me, too.” His voice cracked on those words. He didn’t know what he’d do if Dean turned him away. He could feel his heart beginning to break the longer it took Dean to answer him. “Dean?” He finally let go of Dean and pulled away from him. He couldn’t look at Dean. He didn’t want to see the look of disgust on Dean’s face. He was sure he didn’t want to hear Dean telling him they were nothing more than brothers.

Dean felt his heart swell; he had longed to hear those words from Sam. But, he knew this wasn’t what Sam really wanted. Sam was just reacting to him being hurt. This was Sam in panic mode and he had to set the younger man straight before they both got hurt. He could deal with a broken heart, had been since the day he watched Sam get on that damn bus. “Sam, you don’t mean that. You’re just confused.You’re upset and this is just you in panic mode because I’m in the hospital.”

Sam pulled himself up to his full height and leveled one hell of a bitch look at his brother. “You think I don’t know what I want?” He was seething with anger and couldn’t stop himself. “You’ve wanted me the same way I’ve wanted you.” He watched as Dean looked away from him. “Look at me!” he yelled and watched as Dean’s green orbs finally met his. “Tell me to my face that you don’t feel the same way.” He stood there, next to Dean’s hospital bed waiting for his brother to answer him. He wasn’t leaving that room until he had an answer; he wanted the truth.

“Sam . . .” Dean started and then stopped, trying to figure out what he was going to say. “I can’t do this, not now,” he said quietly. “Maybe . . .”

Sam cut him off before Dean could say more. “No, I deserve the truth. Just like you do. I told you my truth, tell me yours. You think I’m some kid who doesn’t know who or what he wants. I know what I want. Who I want and that’s you. It’s never gonna change. I’ve tried to get over you. I tried to see other people, it just never worked out. They weren’t you. I don’t care what the fuck other people think. You owe me the truth!” he finally yelled at Dean, not willing to back down.

Dean looked up into Sam’s eyes and he saw everything he needed to know in those pools of swirling green, blue and gold orbs. He saw Sam’s love, desire and want and it was all for him. He also saw fear and hurt and he knew he was the cause. Sam had been hurt by his rejection, but he had done that so Sam could have a normal life. The fear was from thinking he didn’t want Sam, that he didn’t feel the same way. He needed to answer Sam before he lost him forever. It was now or never. He took a deep breath and then just went for it. “I love you Sam. So help me, I love you. I tried not to. I let you go so you could have a normal life. I wanted you to be happy. I’ve missed you every day. The hardest thing for me was to watch that bus pull away with you on it. I just never thought you’d want me, that you felt the same way.”

Sam’s mouth gaped open at hearing Dean’s words. Dean loved him. Dean wanted him the same way he wanted Dean. The same way he had been wanting Dean since he understood what his feelings meant for his older brother. Dean had missed him. They had wasted so much time. He didn’t give any more thought to what he was about to do, he leaned down and kissed Dean again. It was a bruising kiss filled with heat and want. He reached out, letting his hands run up and down Dean’s arms until his right hand met Dean’s left and their fingers twined together. He broke the kiss when his lungs screamed for air and rested his forehead against Dean’s. He smiled when he heard them both panting from the kiss. “Finally,” he breathed out.

“So, what now?” Dean asked in a soft voice. They had both just confessed their love for each other. Now, they were going to have to figure out how to navigate through their forbidden love and their lives. Sam was in college. Sam deserved that; he had worked so hard to get into Stanford and he wasn’t about to take that away from him. Plus, he was in a hospital bed. He had suffered a serious back injury and he had to deal with the fact that he would never walk again. He knew he had a long road ahead of him and he didn’t want to burden Sam with that.

“We’ll figure things out together. I’m not going anywhere now that we’ve finally got our heads out of our asses.” Sam broke contact with Dean long enough to sit back down and then reached out to take Dean’s left hand in his right one again. He needed that physical contact with the man next to him.

Shaking his head, Dean looked over at Sam. “Sam, you have school. You can’t just give that up. Not for me. Plus, I need to figure things out. I can’t hunt, not like this,” he said with a sweep of his free hand over his useless legs. “I’m gonna have to learn to live differently. I have to learn how to take care of myself, because I’m not having you or anyone else do that. I might not be able to . .” He let his words hang in the air. He might not be able to give Sam what he needed, physically. He didn’t want to hold Sam back from finding someone else who could fulfill Sam’s needs.

“Dean, I don’t care about that. There are other things you can do,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows at Dean, trying to break the tense mood that had settled over the room. He saw Dean’s lips quirked up into a slight smile and he returned the smile.

Sam’s words had the effect his younger brother had been hoping for and he found himself trying not to smile. He shook his head and looked at Sam and wondered how Sam had gotten past the front desk because he knew whose names were on that list of people he didn’t want seeing him. Dean’s face scrunched up in confusion as he looked at Sam. “How did you get in here? I had your name on the list for no visitors.”

Sam gave Dean a sly smile. “I have my ways. Might have given the nurse at the desk a fake license with a fake name. And no, I’m not going to tell you.” He gave Dean another smile and then squeezed his hand. “What did the doctor tell you about your injury?”

Dean shrugged. “Don’t really remember. I was too busy being pissed off or not listening. Plus, they’ve had me on some good drugs.” He chuckled when he spoke that. Even though he couldn’t use his legs, he was still on painkillers for muscle spasms in his back. He had them constantly and they hurt like a sonofabitch. The therapist and doctor had told him that as he regained strength in his back, they would taper off. He hoped they were right.  

Sam let go of Dean’s hand and reached for the call button. A moment later a female voice sounded from the speaker on the wall over Dean’s head. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, is there anyway the doctor can speak to us? I have some questions,” Sam responded.

“I’ll see what I can do,” the voice said and then the call ended.

“Sam,” Dean hissed out.

“Dean,” Sam countered back, stopping Dean from saying anything else. He fished out his phone and placed a call. He could see the questioning look on Dean’s face but ignored him. “Hey, Jess,” he said when the call was picked up. “I don’t know how long I’m gonna be. I just asked for Dean’s doctor to come in and speak to us. If you wanna head home, that’s okay. I’ll figure something out.” He went quiet as Jess spoke to him.

“Sam, I’m not just going to abandon you. So, like I said earlier, take your time. I’ve got my laptop and books. I’m good,” Jess said.

“Thanks, Jess. You’re a good friend. I’ll call you once I know what’s going on,” Sam said and ended the call. He looked at Dean and saw Dean staring at him. “She’s just a friend. She knows I’m gay and that I’m in love with this jerk named Dean who broke my heart.”

“Bitch,” Dean shot back. “So, you’re in love with me? Cause I kinda feel the same way. But, you can’t put your life on hold for me. I’m serious,” he said in a determined voice.

“Okay, Dean. Whatever you say,” Sam stated.

Before either of them could say more to each other, they heard a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Dean called out and watched as the door was pushed open to reveal his doctor standing there.

The man pushed the door open and walked in, letting it close behind himself. He saw Sam sitting next to Dean’s bed and smiled. “Well, it’s nice to see that you finally have a visitor, Dean and the hint of a smile on your face.” He turned toward Sam, his right hand outstretched. “I’m Dr. Richards. I was told that you had some questions for me?”

“Sam. I’m Dean’s boyfriend,” Sam introduced himself, not caring what Dean’s reaction was. He felt Dean settle his hand over his after he had shaken the doctor’s hand and dropped it back onto the bed. He glanced over to Dean, to try to gauge Dean’s reaction and saw only a smile on Dean’s face. He turned his attention back to the doctor.

“Dean, are you comfortable with me talking about your injury with Sam?” Richard inquired

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened his eyes he saw both men staring at him. “Yeah. Sam won’t let it go until he gets the answers he’s looking for. Go for it.” He settled back against his pillows and waited to hear what the doctor had to say. This time he would listen, even though he’d rather not know. If he listened then this would all be real and in the back of his mind he still hoped that this was all a dream. He didn’t find the reality of never being able to walk again appealing. The scrape of a chair being dragged across the floor drew his attention. He looked up to see the doctor dragging a chair over to sit next to Sam and the bed.

“What’s Dean prognosis?” Sam asked as the doctor sat down.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“Well, let me start with saying things could have been a lot worse. Dean could have been left with quadriplegia where he had no function of his limbs. He has paraplegia where he no longer has the use of his legs. There are levels of injury to the spinal cord, higher-level where the normal function of the arms, hands, legs, feet and pelvic region are effect. The fall caused a blow to your spine where the vertebra or what’s known as the discs of bones in your spine were fractured. These fragments of bones tore the spinal cord and crushed the nerves resulting in the injury you’re faced with.”

Sam sucked in a sharp breath at hearing just how extensive Dean’s injury really was. “What is the likelihood of Dean’s functioning; his ability to feel arousal?”

“Dean has what is referred to as lower-level injury where Dean has no sense of feeling from the top of his thighs to his toes. This is what we call incomplete since he does have sensation above that area. He has the use and feeling of his bladder and other functions, if that’s what your asking.” Richards paused a moment to give the two men a moment to comprehend what he was telling them. “While you won’t have the use of your legs, you will still have the use of everything else. It might be difficult for you to navigate that aspect of your life, there are ways to facilitate a healthy and active sex life.” He saw Dean’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, but continued on. “In another week or so, we’ll go through what’s right for you, the type of wheelchair you’ll be using, and other aides.”

“Awesome,” Dean sullenly replied.

“Dean, I can only imagine how difficult this has been for you.” Richards reached out and placed a hand on Dean’s leg only to snatch it away when Dean eyed the hand and angrily. “The injury resulted in the brain’s sensory outputs to no longer reach the muscles and vice versa, since it’s a two way street. But, in the weeks you’ve been here, you’ve come a long way. With a spinal cord injury, there can be swelling, bleeding, inflammation and fluid buildup around the are that can often cause further complications. That hasn’t happened. You might not see it this way, but you were very lucky. How you managed to not break any bones in your fall is beyond me.”

“I’m just lucky that way,” Dean spat out and turned his face from the two other men. He needed time to process this information. That was the reason he had been putting off any real discussion with his doctor and anyone else who had dared to step foot in his room. He had known that his injury had been bad, he had just never wanted to know how bad.

“I’m at Stanford. Are there any rehab centers in the area that he can be transferred to?” Sam asked in a hopeful voice.

“I can look into that. Dean still needs time to recover. Strengthen his body before we even think about moving him,” Richards informed them.  

“He’s right here,” Dean gritted out from behind clenched teeth as he turned his attention back to the two men.

Sam turned to him, smiled and then turned back to the doctor. “He can be a stubborn ass who refuses to listen or ask questions.”

Richards snorted at Sam’s well described observation of the man lying in the bed. “I can gather the information on what we’ve discussed and have it ready for you to look over. There’s going to be a long road of recovery for you Dean and you’re going to need as much support as you can get.”

“He’s got me,” Sam responded.

“Sam,” Dean breathed out as he shot Sam a warning look.

The doctor stood up and replaced the chair from where he had gotten it from. “Well, I’ll leave you two to talk things over. With time you’ll learn to be self-sufficient and lead a very healthy and productive life. It was nice to meet you Sam. Dean, I’ll see you later.” With that, Richards left Dean’s hospital room, giving the two men time to talk.

“See, not so bad,” Sam offered encouragingly.

That was when Dean’s anger erupted. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Not so bad? Did you hear what that doctor said Sam? A long road of recovery. No feeling from the tops of my thighs to the bottom of my feet. Wheelchair, Sam. I’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I wish the fall had killed me!” he screamed.

Sam stood up quickly from his chair, knocking it over in his haste. “Don’t you say that. Don’t you ever fucking say that again!” He lowered his head, tucking his chin against his chest as he spoke. “I barely survived this past year without you. Do you know what would have happened to me if you had died? I couldn’t live without you if you were dead. If you weren’t with me, I could live with that, knowing you were alive,” he said more to himself than Dean. His nostrils were flairing, his chest was heaving and he was clenching his hands into tight fists. He sucked in a sob and raised his tear streaked face up to meet Dean’s green pain filled eyes.

Seeing Sam’s reaction, he instantly regretted the words he had spoken in anger and fear. “Sam, I’m sorry. I’m just scared and angry.” He reached out for Sam and caught him by the shirt. He fisted his hand into Sam’s shirt and pulled the younger man down to him. Gently he kissed Sam again. “I love you,” he murmured against Sam’s lips. “I just don’t want you waiting for me. For something I may never be able to give you.”

Sam sat down on the bed and entwined their fingers together again. “Don’t you think I have a say in this? Who says I’m putting my life on hold? I’m not dropping out of college.” He heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath and reached out to cup Dean’s cheek with his other hand. “I’ll come up on weekends to visit with you until you’re able to be moved. I’m sure there are rehab places near Stanford. We can find a place to live in together. We’ll be happy together, you’ll see,” he said with determination and he heard Dean agree with him.

“Okay, Sam, okay. But if there’s ever a time that you don’t feel you can do this, that it gets to be too much for you, you gotta tell me. I only want you to be happy.” He squeezed Sam’s hand. “I don’t want you to stay out of some sense of loyalty to me. I don’t want that.”

“Of course not. Dean, I love you. I know this won’t be easy, but we’ve got each other. I promise, we’ll get through this, together.” He leaned in for a kiss, and nibbled on Dean’s bottom lip before his tongue pushed at the seam of Dean’s lips, demanding entry. He felt Dean part his lips and he snaked his tongue out, mapping Dean’s mouth. Their tongues tangled together and he moaned into Dean’s mouth, satisfied at finally having a taste of his brother. He brought his hand up to cup the back of Dean’s head and ran his fingers through the cropped hair. He heard Dean moan from what he was doing and smiled as he pulled back from him. He looked into lust blown eyes and smirked, knowing he was the cause of the state Dean was in. Before Dean had a chance to recover, he surged forward and bit Dean’s neck.

“Sam,” Dean let out in a breathy moan when Sam’s teeth sank into his flesh. He had wanted this for so long and now Sam was here, kissing him, biting him and he didn’t want it to end. But, he knew they had to stop whatever it was they were doing. He needed time to adjust to Sam’s admission and his own reveal that he too felt the same way. Plus, Sam’s friend was somewhere in the hospital and Sam needed to get back to campus. He brought his hand up and placed it on Sam’s pec, intending to gently push him away. And when the hell had Sam filled out? He felt the ripple of muscle under his fingers. “Sam,” he groaned as he finally applied pressure to Sam’s seemingly unyielding body.

Sam pulled away, confusion registering on his face as he looked at Dean. He didn’t understand why Dean was pushing him away. He felt Dean’s hand on his chest, his fingers flexing against his muscles. He wanted to rip his shirt off and feel Dean’s fingers against his bare flesh. He tried to lean in for another kiss but Dean added more pressure against his chest not allowing him to get any closer. “Dean?”

“Sam, you gotta get going,” Dean finally said, not hiding the sadness that filled his voice. He shook his head when he saw Sam trying to speak. He knew Sam was about to plead with him to let him stay. “No, Sam, you need to get back to school. You’re not dropping out, remember? Your friend is here, just hanging out in a hospital. We both need a little time. We can take the week to think things through.” He saw the hurt look on Sam’s face. God, being the responsible one really sucked, he thought to himself. “Take the time to make sure this is really what you want. If it is, then come back for the weekend. If it’s not, I’ll understand. But, I won’t push you and I won’t just up and disappear. I promise.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Sam said in an accusatory tone. “You’re trying to give me a way out. Well, I’m not going anywhere.” He bit his bottom lip and looked away from Dean for a moment. When he looked back he saw that Dean was staring at him; Dean’s green eyes boring into him. “Okay, I’m going back to school, but I’m not leaving you. I told you, you’re who I want. I’ll see you in a week and we’ll talk. You better pick up the phone when I call.” He watched as Dean shook his head. “Promise me. Say it,” he demanded.

“I promise you, I’ll pick up when you call,” Dean replied and watched as Sam’s face split into a blinding grin. “Come here,” he said as he fisted Sam’s shirt and pulled him in for another kiss.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Both turned toward the door with skin flushed pink to see who had knocked. Alan pushed the door open and stuck his head inside. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish look on his face when he realized what he had just busted in on. “I need to get you ready for your therapy session,” he said and heard Dean groan.

“I don’t need to talk about my frigging feeling,” Dean groused at the older man.

“Doctor’s orders,” Alan countered back good-naturedly.

Sam leaned in for another kiss, this time making it a chaste one as he kissed Dean’s lips. “I love you. I’m not going to let you go and I’m not giving up on us,” he said as he broke the kiss and stood up to leave. “I’ll call you later,” he told Dean as he stood at the door.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean said softly, causing the younger man to turn back toward him. “I love you. And I don’t plan on giving up.” He watched as Sam gave him another blinding, dimpled smile before he disappeared down the hall.

“So, your friend . . .” Alan said with a smile.

“Shut it,” Dean grunted at the older man.

**That had been six months ago.**

There had been some hard times between them. That first weekend when Sam had shown up, Dean had actually been surprised; he never really thought Sam would come. They had spoken every night on the phone, rebuilding their relationship, getting to know each other again, but he had prepared himself for the idea that Sam wouldn’t show up; that the younger man had the week to think about things and had realized how impossible everything would be for them. Not only were they brothers, they were in love with each other and now, he didn’t have the use of his legs. Even he wasn’t deluding himself that Sam wouldn’t have come to his senses with the time they had spent apart. He had been turned away from the door, staring out the window when Sam’s voice startled him.

“Hey,” Sam said as he pushed the door open to Dean’s room. He was surprised when Dean didn’t roll over or acknowledge him. He let the door close and walked around the bed to stand in front of the window until Dean finally said something to him. When Dean didn’t speak to him, he crouched down in front of Dean’s bed, leaned in and kissed Dean. “What’s wrong?” he asked in concern at seeing Dean this way.

“Nothing,” Dean mumbled, not looking at Sam.

“Come on, talk to me,” Sam cajoled, rubbing his hand up and down Dean’s left arm. “Don’t shut me out.”

Dean closed his eyes, not wanting to see the look on Sam’s face. “Didn’t think you’d actually come,” he said in a near whisper. He opened his eyes when he heard the sound of something being dropped on the floor to find that Sam had let his duffle bag fall to the floor.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sam asked.

“Because you smartened up,” Dean whispered.

“Move over,” Sam instructed and then sat down on the edge of the bed when Dean had shifted over giving him enough room to plant himself down. “I thought we already went through this? I already told you that I’m not going anywhere. That you’re the one I want, didn’t I?”

Still not looking at Sam, Dean answered, “Yeah, but . . .”

“But what? Did you think I was lying?” Sam asked, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. How could Dean think he would ever change his mind or lie to him about how much he loved him or wanted to be with him?

“No, never thought that,” Dean replied as his fingers played with the hem of the blanket that was covering him. “I know you’d never lie to me, not intentionally.”

“Then what?” Sam inquired. He let his hand drop to Dean’s back and rubbed soothing circles as he waited for Dean to answer him.

How could he put his thoughts into words? There had been something that Sam had said the last time he had been here that kept running through his mind; Sam had been with other people. He knew it was stupid of him to focus on this. It wasn’t like he was a virgin, far from it. But, it just reminded him that Sam could have anyone he wanted. Anyone with two working legs. He didn’t want to hurt Sam or fight with him and he knew he didn’t have the right to say anything to Sam about him being with other people. It just bothered him and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “It’s just that you said something last week and I can’t stop thinking about it. It makes me wonder if this is right.”

Sam felt his stomach bottom out and a sense of dread began to creep over him. Was Dean trying to tell him he was having second thoughts about them? He didn’t know what he’d do if Dean told him that he had changed his mind. He had set his happiness on finally being with Dean. He thought they were working toward a relationship, being with each other. Was this all for nothing? Was the universe giving him his heart’s desire only to snatch it away from him? “What are you trying to tell me?”

Dean finally raised his eyes to look at Sam; to meet his intense gaze. “Are you sure I’m the one you want? You can have anyone you want. You’ve been with other people.” He saw Sam’s mouth working, like he was going to say something to him. He held his hand up to stop Sam so he could finish what he needed to say. “I don’t have a right to ask you about them. I never thought you had been pining for me, sitting home alone. I mean, it wasn’t like I was.” He blushed at that thought, remembering that time at the bar; what he had done with Tom? Tim? No, Tony. “It’s just, my legs don’t work. What if the rest of me doesn’t? I know what the doctor said and the therapist. But, what if they’re wrong? What if I can’t give you what you need?” He felt himself shaking as he spoke. They hadn’t talked about sex other than what Sam had asked the doctor. Maybe they should have; he had no idea what Sam expected from him. Was Sam’s preference to bottom or top? While he preferred to bottom, he would have switched if that was what Sam wanted. At least in the past he would have, but now? He knew he’d never be able to give that to Sam. And if he couldn’t how could he ever make Sam happy? How could he ever satisfy Sam’s needs?

The realization of what Dean was trying to say hit him and he fought back the giggle that threatened to erupt from his throat. “It’s not really about me being with someone else is it? It’s about what I like. Are you worried about my preference?” he asked. He watched as Dean nodded his head. He let out a soft huff. “Well, when I was with someone, I usually top. And just so you know, I haven’t been with anyone in several months. Like I told you last week, it didn’t work out, they weren’t you.” He shook Dean to get his attention. “Does that help you out? And what about you, since we’re delving into our pasts and our preferences. Fair’s fair Dean.”

He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation, but he had been the one to bring it up and Sam was right, fairness was owed. “Last time I was with anyone was the night I dropped you off at the bus station. I just needed to try and forget you, but it didn’t work out. And when I was with him, I bottomed.” He sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting it as he waited for Sam to respond.

Sam’s eyes went wide as he listened to Dean. Dean hadn’t been with anyone in nearly a year and when he had, he had preferred to bottom. He had thought for sure Dean would have topped; demanding, pushy bastard that he was at times. “Oh,” he exclaimed as his eyes lit up. This would solve any problems in their future. “So you . . .”

Dean held up his hand, stopping Sam from finishing that sentence. “Yeah, now drop it,” he huffed out.

“Problem solved,” Sam stated as he leaned down and kissed Dean. “So, where am I supposed to sleep?” he inquired as he eyed the room and the lack of an extra bed or even a cot. “I guess I could sleep with you.” He wiggled his eyebrows and watched as a smile spread across Dean’s face. He felt his heart melt at seeing that smile directed at him.  

 **That had been nearly four month ago.**  

Dean had tried to shut Sam out, but of course, Sam had refused to allow that.

“You’re one stubborn sonofabitch,” Dean had gritted out from behind clenched teeth. To his dismay, Sam had only laughed.

“Takes one to know one,” Sam said as he waited for Dean to transfer himself from his wheelchair to the hospital bed.

“Why are you here Sam?” Dean asked as he stared up at his brother. He had called and told Sam to stay away. He wasn’t in a good headspace to have Sam with him at the rehab center he had been transferred to. He had been released from Seneca Hospital eleven weeks after Sam had shown up and forced his way back into Dean’s life and had been having a hard time trying to deal with everything. When he had been nearly five hours away, the distance had made it easier for him to deal with his nonworking legs and Sam. Now that he was in Palo Alto, he had been having a hard time seeing Sam all the time. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the younger man, he did. It was just the fact that he was trying to finish rehab, figure out what he was going to do with his life, he had yet to tell Sam a few things and he had to deal with that and his growing romantic relationship with Sam. It felt like everything was crashing down around him. “I thought I told you to stay away,” he muttered more to himself than Sam.

“You did, I chose not to listen,” Sam replied in a happy tone. He shot Dean a dimpled smile and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door frame to Dean’s room. He wanted to walk over to Dean and help him as he watched Dean struggle, but he knew he couldn’t. The last time he had, Dean had screamed at him to get away from him. It had hurt to hear the anger in Dean’s voice, but he had known it wasn’t really directed at him. Dean had been frustrated at not being able to do things as easily as he had before.  

Dean gave Sam a hard stare and then checked to make sure he had engaged the brakes on his wheelchair. He had forgotten one time and had ended up on the floor. He had cursed himself for his failures and had tried to get himself back into his chair. That had only resulted in him tipping the chair over. He had lain there, on the floor next to his overturned chair, for some time before he had finally called out for help. He forced himself to focus on what he was doing and not on Sam as he lifted himself up using his arms and then transferred himself over to the bed. He had just needed to be out of his damn chair for a while. He flopped onto the bed, feeling the burn in his arms and tightening in his chest from his accelerated breathing and lay there, on his back until he felt the burn subside and his breathing returned to normal. Slowly, he pulled himself up onto the bed until his back rested against the pillows and then reached down with both hands to move his legs until they were lying straight in front of himself. He let out several huffs of breath and rubbed at his arms before he finally looked over at Sam. “So, why are you here?”   

“Why am I here?” Sam parroted as he closed and locked the door to Dean’s room. He licked his lips and looked Dean over, a predatory look in his eyes. Slowly, he stalked over to the bed, leaned down and captured Dean’s lips in a heated, sloppy kiss. “I’m here for this,” he rasped out. He kissed along Dean’s jawline and down his neck and bit at the sensitive skin. He heard Dean gasp and his lips quirked into a smile against Dean’s heated skin. “I’m here for that,” he murmured as he pulled away from Dean and then climbed onto the bed with Dean.

“Wha . . . What are you doing,” Dean stuttered out.

“Giving you a reward for all your hard work.” Sam’s voice was low and full of heat as he spoke. He reached over and cupped Dean’s face, pulling him in for another kiss.

“Reward,” Dean panted out when they broke apart.

“You talk too much,” Sam murmured before rising up on his knees and maneuvered their bodies so he was straddling Dean’s hips. He bracketed Dean’s shoulders with his arms and lowered himself down so they were pressed chest to chest and bit down on Dean’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. When Dean gasped, he slipped his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

Dean moaned around Sam’s tongue and then sucked on it, enjoying the taste of Sam; sugar and coffee mingled together. He raised his arms up to hold onto Sam’s larger body. With one hand, he curled his fingers into Sam’s hair. With the other, he dug his fingers into the meat of Sam’s shoulder. “Sam,” he groaned when Sam pulled away from him and dropped his hands to his sides.

“Shhh,” was Sam’s response. “Just lay back and close your eyes,” Sam whispered into Dean’s ear and felt the older man shudder as he kissed along Dean’s neck. With one hand, he began to run his fingers over Dean’s chest, playing with Dean’s right nipple through the fabric of his t-shirt. When the nub had pebbled, he pushed his fingers under Dean’s shirt so his fingers could touch the hardened flesh. He heard Dean’s soft gasp as he pinched the flesh, rolling it between his forefinger and thumb. Slowly, he pushed Dean’s shirt up, exposing his stomach and pecs. Without a word, he brought his lips down onto Dean’s left nipple.

Dean’s eyes shot open at feeling Sam’s lips on his exposed chest. “Sam,” he managed to groan out and his hips bucked in response to Sam’s teeth grazing over the hardened flesh of his nipple. He licked his lips as he felt heat pooling in his gut for the man straddling him. He reached both hands out, fingers curling in Sam’s hair and tried to pull Sam up to him for another kiss. He felt resistance as Sam’s teeth worked his nipple and grunted in frustration.

With a wet sounding pop, Sam let go of Dean’s nipple and looked up at him through hooded eyes. Dean was looking down at him through his long lashes. His skin was flushed and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. He slid himself further down Dean’s body, kissing a trail down Dean’s stomach and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Dean’s sweatpants and underwear. He head Dean’s gasp as he pulled them both down around Dean’s calves and then settled himself between Dean’s legs again. He reached out and took Dean’s semi hard cock in his hand, running his fingers over the heated skin. He heard Dean’s heaving breaths as he began to fist Dean’s cock, coaxing Dean into a full erection. He placed a kiss on Dean’s hip and then lowered his head to meet Dean’s erection. His tongue snaked out of his mouth and lapped at the head, tasting the precome that had started leaking from the slit.   

“Sam,” Dean moaned when he felt Sam’s fingers wrapped around the base of his cock. His hips bucked up into Sam’s touch and he bit his bottom lip, trying to stop any more sound from escaping his mouth. He felt like he was floating on a cloud of bliss as Sam began to fist his cock. He pressed his head deeper into his pillows and grabbed at the comforter they were lying on top of. He arched his back off the bed when Sam’s tongue licked at his slit, lapping at the precome that had bubbled up onto the head of his cock.

Gently, Sam placed his free hand on Dean’s hip, helping to settle him back against the bed. He heard Dean’s stuttered breaths and waited for him to relax before he leaned forward, parted his lips and sucked on the head of his cock. He pulled off to lick the underside of Dean’s erection, wetting the hot flesh before he took Dean back into his mouth, swallowing him down. He bobbed his head, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked and licked at the hard flesh in his mouth.

Dean keened as Sam took him into the hot wet heat of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed as his cock hit the back of Sam’s throat. His skin was on fire and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take from Sam’s talented mouth. He reached down, running his fingers through Sam’s sweat dampened hair. “Sam,” he whispered. “So good. Please . . .” His words choked off as Sam’s tongue swirled over the head of his cock.

Sam pulled off with a soft pop to look up at Dean through half-hooded lids before he swallowed Dean back down, humming around the head as it hit the back of his throat. He curled his tongue around the hard flesh and alternated between hard sucks and soft licks. The room was filled with the sounds of Dean’s whimpers and then his rising voice as Dean called his name when he lapped at Dean’s slit before he sucked Dean back down.

His orgasm hit him so hard, so quickly that he could hardly think. “Sa . . .” Dean tried to choke out as a warning before he came, spilling his release down Sam’s throat.

Sam felt Dean’s body tense and heard him make a sound, as if Dean was trying to say his name, before Dean was coming down his throat. He swallowed Dean’s release savoring everything Dean gave him. He laved at Dean’s softening cock, stopping only when Dean whined from being overstimulated. Gently he let Dean slip from between his lips and kissed the creases of Dean’s hips. He moved to bracket Dean’s shoulders with his arms and smiled down at him. Dean eyes were closed, his lips were red and swollen and his skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he looked blissed out. He had done that. He was the cause of Dean’s sated state. He hummed in satisfaction. He watched as Dean’s eyelids fluttered open and he was met with those intense green eyes staring up at him.  

Dean reached up and pulled Sam down to him, tasting himself on Sam’s lips and tongue as they lazily kissed. Sam shifted off of him to lay next to him and he felt Sam’s obvious erection nudge against his hip. With minimal effort he turned, rolling himself onto his right side and met Sam’s eyes. “Sam,” he breathed out and flattened his hand against Sam’s stomach. His fingers began to slide down toward the button of Sam’s jeans. His eyes widened in shock when Sam’s hand grasped his, stopping him.

“I’m fine, just give me a minute,” Sam managed to rasp out. He wanted Dean to touch him, but this had been about Dean, giving him what he knew Dean had needed. The man had been working so damn hard to rebuild his life. He wanted to show Dean how much he loved him; that he wanted him no matter what. “I’m good. This was for you,” Sam whispered. “Needed, wanted to show you how proud I am of you.”

Dean craned his neck to meet Sam’s lips. “I love you,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you,” Dean begged and felt Sam remove his hand from his and his fingers worked open the button and zipper. He slid his hand in between Sam’s clothing, his fingers meeting Sam’s heated flesh and began to work Sam’s hard cock out of his jeans.

Sam wiggled his hips and pushed down on the waistband of his jeans. He hissed at the feeling of Dean’s fingers as they wrapped around his cock, the thumb sliding over the head and smearing the precum along his shaft and Dean’s fingers. He leaned back against the pillows as his eyes closed and he drew his bottom lip in between his teeth. His hips bucked as Dean’s fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock and began to fist him. He knew it wouldn’t take long for him to come, he had already been on edge while giving Dean a blowjob. “ _DeanDeanDean_ ,” he chanted when Dean added more pressure to his sensitive flesh.

Dean shifted to give himself more leverage as he ran his fingers over Sam’s cock. He tightened his hold, adding more pressure and heard Sam’s needy response. He peppered Sam’s face with soft kisses before he shifted so his lips were at Sam’s neck. He licked Sam’s neck and felt Sam shudder from the contact. He pressed his lips against Sam’s overheated flesh and smirked. “Gonna come for me?” he whispered before he bit Sam’s neck.

Sam savored the feeling of Dean’s body pressed against him. He felt the familiar tingle at the base of his spine as his orgasm began to build. He shuddered at the contact of the warm body against his and hearing Dean’s voice. The bite to his neck was all he needed to push him over the edge and he came with a shout of Dean’s name, his cum hitting his stomach and spilling over Dean’s hand. His vision blacked out as his body twitched, riding the aftershocks of his orgasm. When his breathing finally returned to normal and he was able to open his eyes, he focused on Dean and he looked up into shining green eyes. “Dean, that was incredible,” he rasped out and pulled Dean down to crash their lips together.

Dean chuckled against Sam’s lips. “I aim to please,” he replied and kissed Sam again. “But, I need a little help here,” he said as he pulled away and his eyes looked pointedly at the mess they had made of themselves and his bed.

Sam felt his cheeks burning in embarrassment as he took in the sight of them. They, along with the comforter were covered in the evidence of their orgasms. “Thank God I locked the door,” he muttered as he pushed himself up and off the bed. Not bothering to pull his pants up, he walked into the adjoining bathroom to wash up and get his jeans back on before he could help Dean. He stripped off his t-shirt and balled it up, knowing it was a lost cause and tossed it into the hamper. He hoped that Dean had a shirt that he could at least wear home so he wouldn’t get any strange looks as he left the rehab center. He reappeared with a wet washcloth and stood next to Dean’s bed. He waited patiently until Dean willingly let him wipe down his hands so he could transfer himself back to his wheelchair. He heard Dean’s murmured ‘Thanks’ as he walked back into the bathroom to toss the washcloth into the dirty clothes hamper. When he stepped back into the room he found Dean still lying in bed, but Dean had managed to pull his underwear and sweatpants back up and had tugged his t-shirt down over his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Dean heard Sam’s footfalls as he entered the room and looked up. He was about to ask something of Sam that he hadn’t thought he ever would. “Hey, ah, do you think you could help me?” He rubbed his left hand against the back of his neck and looked down at his wheelchair. He gave Sam a sideways glance and then explained what he meant. “I mean you don’t have to. It’s just my arms are tired and I’m afraid I’ll fall if I try to transfer myself after . . .”

“Sure, I’ll help you.” Sam tried his best to conceal his glee at hearing Dean’s request. He knew it had taken a lot for Dean to ask him for help. The one time he had tried to help Dean hadn’t gone well. Dean had turned an angry shade of red and started yelling at him for his interference. From that moment on, he had vowed not to help his prideful brother until Dean asked. “What do you want me to do?” he asked as he stepped forward.

“Lift me?” Dean asked. “Then help me into my chair.”

With a dimpled grin, Sam placed one arm around Dean’s back and the other under his knees. He waited until he felt Dean’s arms clasp around his neck before he lifted Dean from the bed and transferred him to his chair. He waited until he was sure Dean was situated safely on the seat before he stepped back.

“Thanks, Sam.” Dean released the brake and wheeled forward to the end of his bed, pulled the comforter off, balled it up and wheeled into the bathroom. He reappeared in the room and moved over to his dresser, rummaged around until he found what he had been looking for and then tossed it to Sam. “That should fit you.”

Sam caught the shirt and slipped it on. He liked the idea of wearing something of Dean’s. It was like having Dean pressed up against his skin. He shuddered at the thought of it; of having Dean pressed up against him like they had just been. God . . . but he wanted more. He wanted them naked, in bed, touching each other, making love. He bit his bottom lip to stiffel the moan that was bubbling up from inside him. Instead, he focused on Dean as he moved around the room to get a blanket to cover his bed with. Even in the California heat, Dean got cold at times and needed the extra warmth of a blanket or comforter on his bed. “Can I help?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean replied noncommitedly as he tossed the blanket onto the bed and tugged at the edge of it until it hung off the foot of the bed. Being there at the rehab center, he had begun to learn new ways to deal with everyday life challenges that those with two working legs took for granted. He knew he had been one such person, never realizing what it was like to be able bodied; to be able to do things like walk, run, or even make a bed without having to put thought into the task. Normally he was determined to do things himself. He had to prove to himself that he was still capable of doing things on his own. But this time he had accepted Sam’s offered help. He knew it meant a lot to Sam to be able to help him.

Sam walked over and grabbed the blanket from the middle of the bed and dragged it up until it was lying against the pillows and then folded it back along with the sheet to make it easier for Dean when he got into bed that night. He heard Dean’s soft ‘Thanks’ and shook his head in acknowledgment.

“So, I have something to tell you,” Dean said as he looked down at his hands. He wasn’t sure if Sam was going to like what he was about to tell him. He hadn’t really talked to Sam about his plans and he knew he should have. He just didn’t want to hear Sam’s protests over his decisions. He wasn’t sure that Sam wanted the same things as him. Or worse yet, that Sam had doubts about their relationship.

“What?” Sam asked as he narrowed his eyes at Dean. He knew when Dean refused to meet his eyes, he probably wasn’t going to like what was about to come out of the older man’s mouth.

“Would you sit down?” he asked as he looked up at Sam. “Looking up at you gives my neck a crink, Sasquatch.” He offered a sheepish smile, hoping to lighten the now serious mood that had settled over the room.  

Sam moved to sit on the bed and waited for Dean to tell him what else was on his mind. He played with the hem of Dean’s borrowed shirt as he tried to fight against the sinking feeling that Dean was about to hit him with bad news. He felt Dean’s hand settle over his, stopping his movements and he looked at Dean with hope in his eyes. He felt like he was floundering again when Dean pulled his hand away. “So, I get out of here in a month or so and I’ve been looking for a place near campus, to make it easy on you for when you come visit.” He wanted Sam to come live with him, but he didn’t want to push the younger man into something he wasn’t ready for. “I’ve also been training as a mechanic. I can’t just sit back and do nothing. One of therapists here has a brother-in-law who owns a garage. The guy was willing to take me on and he’s also helped me get the Impala outfitted so I can still drive her.” He gave Sam a smile, hoping Sam would see that what he was telling him was for the betterment of their future. When he saw the look of shock on Sam’s face, he wasn’t so sure.

Sam’s head was spinning. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and his breathing quickened as he tried to make sense of Dean’s words. Dean had the Impala? When had that happened? How had that happened? And Dean had been training as a mechanic? That was actually fantastic news as far as he was concerned. He didn’t want Dean sitting at home, bored and feeling frustrated. Dean would only get angry and then turn that anger in on himself; feeling that he was useless. The older man was far from that, even before the injury. But, why hadn’t Dean said anything about this before today? And, Dean had been looking for a place to live. Did that mean that Dean didn’t want him living with him? “Oh,” he whispered and then shook his head. “So you don’t want us living together? Because I thought that was gonna happen?” he blurted out.

Dean moved himself closer to Sam and grabbed his hand. “I do, I just didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want or weren’t ready for. I thought you would rather live on campus and be with your friends. So, I figured I could at least live near you.”

“So, you want me to move in?” Sam asked, hope filtering into his voice.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Dean cocked his head to the side and waited for Sam to reply.

“When do we move in?” Sam asked hastily, not hiding his excitement that not only did Dean actually want him to move in with him, that it would be happening soon.

“I’ll know if we get the place by the end of the month.” He realized he had said we instead of I. He felt a smile creep across his face and happiness beginning to take hold of him. He had moments of happiness with Sam, but he had always believed that Sam would decide to end things between them. Sam wanted to be with him, Sam wanted to move in with him. They were moving forward as a couple, something that they both wanted.

"You’re training to become a mechanic? That’s great and all, but don’t you need your GED for that?” Sam asked and then remembered the other important news Dean had told him, that he had the Impala. “How come you have the Impala? Why am I only finding out about this now?” he asked quietly, trying to reign in his growing anger. He sat stiffly on the bed, waiting for Dean’s explanation. Dean was keeping secrets from him and that had him on edge

“Because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t know if I could be trained. If AJ would even consider taking me on and training me. So, I didn’t say anything about it. It’s only been about a month. But, things are working out. And while I was at Seneca, I had a lot of time on my hands. I took an online class and got my GED.” He couldn’t help the grin that appeared on his face. He felt pride in the fact that things were going well for him at the garage; that AJ had been willing to take a chance on him. “AJ offered me a job once I get outta here. I’ll work two days in the garage, still learning the ropes and getting hands on training. The other three days I’ll be working in the office taking care of the paperwork, setting up appointments, ordering parts and stuff like that.” He chuckled when he saw the look of anger slowly turn to joy on Sam’s face. “Who would have ever thought that I’d have an honest job? How many scams has this family run just to survive? I’m lucky that the hospital bill in Seneca and my room here were covered by the Charitable Care Foundation or who knows what would have happened.” He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought over the implication of his words. If the bills hadn’t been picked up by the foundation, he wouldn’t have gotten the care that he had and they may have forced him into some shithole rehab center far from Sam.

“Hey,” Sam responded as he squeezed Dean’s hand, trying to get Dean out of his own head. “So tell me how did you end up with the Impala? I thought Dad had it.” He felt a spike of anger hit him at the mention of their father, the man who had turned his back on Dean when he had needed him the most. Yes, Dean had most likely pushed John away, like he had tried to do to him, but if John had cared about Dean, the man would have stuck around.

“Yeah, he did. Somehow it ended up here.” He shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea how their father even had any idea where he was. But, then again, given that Sam was still in the area, it probably made sense that he was himself. It had just surprised him that the receptionist on duty that day had stopped by with the keys and a note from John stating that he was leaving him the car. No mention of anything else, no way to contact him, no show of concern for his or Sam’s well-being. “One of the receptionists stopped by with the keys and a note. Just said that he was giving me the car. Made no sense to me since I can’t use my legs. But Brian, my therapist mentioned that AJ might be able to outfit the car with hand controls so I could still drive it. I brought it up to AJ and he was willing to help me out. We’ve been working on it and taking the cost of the parts out of my paycheck. It should be done by the time I get outta here. But, if AJ had said no, I was gonna give you the car. At least I could still ride in it with you driving me.” It would have been hard for him to give up being the one driving the Impala, but knowing that it was still in the family, that Sam would be driving it would have been easier for him to deal with then never seeing the car again or driving in it. He had some great memories of that car; mostly of him and Sam sitting in the backseat as kids. They had both learned to drive in that car. More times than not, that car had been there home. There was no way he was ever letting go of that car.

Sam could feel his anger at John rising. Then he was filled with a sense of fear. What if their father wanted back in their lives? Where would that leave them? Would they have to hide their love for each other? Would Dean end things between them to keep him safe from John’s anger; from John finding out about them being together? The older man always did something to ruin what he and Dean had. “Did you call Dad about him just dropping of the car and not even sticking around to check on you?” This time around, John hadn’t even bothered to see how Dean was. The man was unbelievable.

Dean gave a shrug of his shoulders. “No, why bother? So we could just get into another fight? No point in ruining what I have.” He meant it. If he had reached out to their father, he would have said something or done something to upset Sam and drive a wedge between them because he had taken his anger at their father out on Sam. Plus, if John had really been concerned for either of his sons, he would have found a way to see them. Back up in Seneca, John could have found a way around being put on the no visitor listing. Sam had done it. He didn’t want to hide what he had with Sam and he would have to if their father was around.

Sam shook his head and took a deep breath. Dean was right. There was no point in dwelling on things. Their father was never going to change. The hunt for the supernatural would always take center stage in the man’s life. John Winchester would never rest until he found and killed the demon that had taken Mary Winchester away from him. That would always be his focus, not the sons he had with the woman he loved. “Any other bombshells you wanna drop on me?”

“Ah, yeah, there is,” Dean replied. “I know how you feel about the hunter’s life style and I’m in no condition to hunt, but I can still help out. I’ve talked to a few of the hunters I’ve met when I worked a few jobs alone. They need someone they can rely on. Someone who can do the research on the lore and help them figure out what it’s gonna take to kill the thing they’re hunting. Figured I could be that person.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders and then continued to speak. “I know that research isn’t my thing, but I figured I can learn as I go. Gotta start somewhere, right?” He chewed his bottom lip and rubbed his free hand over the back of his neck. He was just waiting for Sam to explode on him. To his surprise, Sam hadn’t, he had taken the news well.

“Yeah, I can see you being that person. I can help do some of the research, too,” Sam offered. He knew Dean had loved being a hunter and it had hurt the older man when he was hit with the overwhelming realization that he would never be able to go out on a hunt again. This would be the next best thing for Dean and he wasn’t willing to stand in the way of what made the man he loved happy. “Sounds like we have everything figured out. I’ll finish the year with living in the dorm. You’ll get outta here, and move into the new place and then I’ll join you. You’ve got a job lined up and I can find a part-time job to help out. Sounds like a win-win to me.” Using Dean’s hand that he was still holding, he pulled Dean toward him, forcing Dean to let go of his control over his wheelchair. He leaned down and crashed their lips together. He moaned when Dean deepened their kiss as Dean reached up and curled his fingers into his hair. When they broke away from the kiss, they were both panting.

Dean smirked against Sam’s heated skin. “We better stop this before someone figures out what’s going on in here. I haven’t been told that there’s no extracurricular activities, but I think we’ve already pushed our luck today as it is.”

Sam pulled away with a pout on his lips, but he knew Dean was right. He had already taken a chance with what he had instigated earlier. He didn’t want to get Dean into trouble. They would be living together soon enough, if things went their way and he hoped they would. “Yeah, you’re right. Plus, I should get back to my room. I have a test to study for.”

“You’re keeping up with everything?” Dean asked, concern for Sam and his schoolwork clearly etched into his features. Sam had been spending a lot of time with him. Sam had given up his weekends to be with him when he had been at Seneca and now that he was local, Sam stopped by almost every day, spending several hours with him.

“Yeah, still getting straight A’s,” he beamed at Dean. He could see the concern for him on Dean’s face. “No need to worry.”

“Good,” Dean replied as he wheeled himself away from the temptation that was in front of him. All he wanted was to reach up and grab Sam, drag him back down and kiss him again and again and again until Sam was moaning his name like earlier. He forced himself to let that image of Sam, in his bed, go. “Ah, there is one more thing before you go.” He watched as Sam lifted his eyes to meet his gaze. “How are we gonna explain things? I can’t be Dean Smith forever.” Well, he could, but he missed being Dean Winchester. He wanted to go back to being who he had been; just a better version of himself now that he was with Sam and they were building a life together.

Sam gave Dean a sly smile. “Tell you what,” he said as he steepled his fingers together. “You get outta here, get the apartment and I’ll make an honest man out of you.” He placed a chaste kiss on Dean’s lips and then walked to the door, unlocked it and pulled it open. “See you tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he left the room. He could here Dean calling to him, but ignored him as he left the rehab center.

Dean watched as Sam walked out of his room and then Sam’s words caught up with him. “Honest man?” he muttered to himself. His brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what Sam meant. He wheeled himself to the door, calling for Sam. “Sam, Sam. Hey, what does that mean? Sam!” Dean yelled, trying to get Sam’s attention. He grumbled under his breath when he looked into the hall to see that Sam was no longer there. “Son of a bitch!” He heard a chuckle and looked up to see his therapist, Brian shaking his head at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Brian held up his hands in front of himself. “Nothing, man. Just you boys got it bad for each other. It’s nice to see. Sometimes things don’t work out. But, I got a feeling about you. You’re the type that will fight, never give up on the ones he loves. You two, the kind of love you have for each other, it’s one for the history books; or romance novels.” He heard Dean groan and his lips twitched up into a smirk. “Okay, Romeo, you ready for your therapy session?”

“No. How about we skip it for today? Kinda tired.” Dean tried to wheel himself around his therapist, but was stopped when Brian’s hand shot out and grabbed the back of his chair.

“Yeah, I can just imagine why you’re so tired. Just so you know, the walls are kinda thin.” Brian cackled when he saw Dean’s face turn bright red.

“Fuck,” Dean whispered.

“Kinda heard. Don’t get caught by management. Or at least try to be quieter,” Brain said as he steered Dean toward the therapy room. “Come on, time for a different type of workout.”

**That had been nearly three months ago.**

Dean had been able to secure the apartment near the Stanford University campus. The apartment was on the third floor of a handicap accessible building. The rooms were large, giving him the room he needed to maneuver his wheelchair around and they even had a balcony that he was able to access. The kitchen and bathroom counters didn’t accommodate Sam’s height, but the taller man made due with what they had. He still heard Sam’s curses every once in a while when Sam’s knees hit against the underside of the counters, but Sam just smiled and never said a word about the pain or the bruises he sported.

They had turned the second bedroom into an office that he primarily used when he was researching their lore books trying to help out a fellow hunter. Despite his injury, being able to do the research for other hunters had him feeling like he was part of his former world. And, Sam had been true to his word, Sam did help him with research, when he asked the younger man. He tried not to bother Sam unless he had to. He knew Sam had wanted out of that life and he tried to shield Sam from it as much as possible. He wanted Sam to focus on college, not the supernatural. Sam had taken on a part-time job at the campus library and was now a sophomore in college. He wanted Sam to focus on that, rather than helping out hunters track and kill supernatural creatures. He had been the one to make that decision; to be the go to person, not Sam and he didn’t want Sam to take on the added burden of that when school was important. Plus, he had more time on his hands than Sam, despite working thirty hours a week at the garage and going through with getting his certification in automotive technology.

“Okay, just emptied the contents of boxes that go in our nightstands,” Sam stated as he entered the living room to join Dean who had been putting away their DVD’s. Their friends had helped by donating furniture so they had the basics and together they had bought whatever else they needed. They didn’t have a lot, but what they had was theirs.

“I think that’s it for boxes,” Jess called from the kitchen. She along with a few of Sam and Dean’s friends had offered to help with their move. Sam knew that Dean had been apprehensive in meeting his friends. But, they had just accepted Dean as the man he loved and was planning the rest of his life around. Jess appeared at the kitchen door, the empty cardboard box in her hand. “I emptied the boxes and put everything away. Hopefully, you’ll be able to find things.” She laughed at her own joke and then was joined by Brady as he walked in from the second bedroom.

“Yeah, same goes for the office. You guys have a lot of weird books,” Brady pointed out. “I don’t get it, Sam. You’re pre-law. What’s with all the occult books?”

“Uh, those are mine,” Dean offered. “Just a phase I was going through.”

“Strange phase, but whatever,” Brady countered back.

“Dean, things are set up for you in the bedroom and bathroom. I checked to make sure everything is up to code with the accessibility for you. You shouldn’t have any issues transferring from your chair,” Brian said as he joined the group.

Before either Sam or Dean had a chance to react, AJ, Dean’s boss and owner of the garage he worked at appeared right behind Brian, Dean’s therapist from the rehab center.

“Okay,” AJ stated as he walked into the living room, rubbing his hands together. “The bed’s set up and it looks like all the furniture is arranged so you can get around.”

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled.

“That’s great, guys. I think we’re good here now,” Sam said as he looked around at everyone. He could see that Dean was beginning to feel tired and knew it was time to cut things short. “Thanks for your help, we really appreciate it,” he said as he walked the four to the door and said goodbye to them.

That first night living together, had resulted in a fight when Dean had looked at him. He had been sitting on the couch when Dean had come in from the kitchen and had just stopped and looked at him as if Dean was trying to figure something out. He could see that Dean was feeling overwhelmed and when that happened, Dean had a tendency to try and push him away. “Dean?” Sam had asked cautiously. He had dropped his head to rest his chin against his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that was starting to take hold of him.

“Why would you want me?” Dean asked in a small voice, not daring to meet his brother’s hazel eyes. “I’m broken. I’m not . . .”

“Not what?” Sam asked sharply.

“Not a real man,” he whispered.

Sam’s head snapped up, anger flashing in his eyes. How the hell could Dean think that? Dean was everything he could have ever wanted. Dean was the only one he wanted. The man was still just as strong and beautiful as he had been before the accident. “Dean . . .” He took a moment to collect his thoughts. He knew he needed to tread carefully. It had been a tiring day with the move and having people in their apartment; even if they were only there to help. “Dean, why would you say that?”

“I couldn’t even help today.”

“You helped. You carried boxes up. Or do you not remember being on the elevator with boxes resting on your thighs? You did that a couple of times. You took them from the moving truck, and wheeled them in, without anyone helping you. You emptied boxes. You just finished putting away the DVD’s. So, I’d say that was helping out,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Whatever,” Dean responded as he turned away from Sam and wheeled himself out of the living room and in the direction of their bedroom.

“Dean!” Sam called after him. When Dean didn’t respond to him, he followed Dean into their bedroom. He stood in the doorway as he watched Dean transfer himself from his chair into their bed. He felt a jolt of desire course through his body as he thought over that; their bed. He licked his lips at the sight of Dean shifting himself into the middle of their bed. As he stalked over to Dean, he pulled his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor and began to strip off the rest of his clothing. He met Dean’s eyes as the sound of his jeans hitting the floor drew Dean’s attention.

“Sam . . .” Dean said as he looked up to see that Sam was standing there in their bedroom naked. “Wha . . . What are you doing?” he asked as he saw the predatory look in Sam’s eyes. He swallowed several times, as he tried to work out what Sam was doing.

“Gonna show you what you do to me. Gonna prove to you that you’re a real man,” Sam husked in a low voice as he reached out and curled his fingers around the hem of Dean’s shirt, pulling it up to expose the taut muscles of Dean’s stomach. He pulled the shirt off of Dean and tossed it onto the foot of the bed and then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Dean’s sweatpants and boxer briefs and pulled them down and off Dean’s body without a fight from Dean. He tossed the clothing over his shoulder, not caring where they landed. Sam growled low in his throat at the sight before him; Dean’s naked body spread out on their bed, waiting for him.

“Sam . . .” Dean hissed as he laid there naked while Sam took his fill of him. He shuddered and he wasn’t sure if it was the look of hunger in Sam’s eyes or the feeling of the air against his exposed skin. Or was it both? He didn’t care; not giving it another thought as Sam climbed onto the bed and nudged his legs apart. In that moment, he wished he could feel Sam’s warmth against his skin. He wished he could move his own legs; to wrap them around Sam’s trim waist. He felt tears pricking at his eyes and he closed them as he tried to get his emotions under control. He gasped when he felt Sam’s lips on his; his eyes snapped open to look up into Sam’s hazel eyes.

Sam leaned down, his lips brushing lightly over Dean’s and he heard the soft gasp that Dean let out. “Where’d you go?” he murmured. He focused on Dean’s face when he heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath. He saw the tears that were forming and he reached up and wiped them away, murmuring words of love to the man beneath him. “I love you, always have. Can’t be without you,” he told Dean, putting all his love into those words so Dean would understand, finally realize that Dean was all that truly mattered to him. “Gonna make love to you.” He nosed along Dean’s jaw, nuzzling along the stubbled chin, placing soft kisses.

He breath quickened at hearing Sam’s words. This would be their first time together; Sam making love to him. Dean reached up and tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair. “Sam, please,” Dean begged as his eyelids fluttered closed. He heard the drawer to the nightstand closest to him being opened and then closed. He mewled when Sam’s teeth grazed along the sensitive skin of his neck and then Sam’s warm hands were on his body; touching him, moving him and he relaxed into the strong hands, knowing Sam wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.

“Want to make this good for us both,” Sam rasped out as he ran the tips of his fingers over Dean’s lips to distract him for a moment before he manhandled Dean into a better position for them both. He grabbed the body pillow Dean had brought with him from the rehab center, the one he used to help keep him in position when he was lying on his side, and placed it under Dean’s hips, angling him up to his advantage. When he was sure Dean was comfortable, he grabbed the bottle of lube he had retrieved from the nightstand and coated his fingers. He trailed his hand between Dean’s parted legs; his slicked fingers disappeared between Dean’s ass cheeks and circled over Dean’s rim. He kissed Dean’s lips as he pushed one of his fingers past Dean’s tight rim and into his fluttering channel. Slowly he worked his finger into Dean’s warm body, pushing past the tight muscle.

Dean moaned from feeling Sam’s finger enter him, working him open. He let out a groan when Sam’s finger withdrew only to feel two fingers push into his body. He tried to move, to help Sam as Sam prepped him. He realized he couldn’t and forced himself to lay back and enjoy what Sam was doing to him.

Sam slowly worked his fingers in and out of Dean’s body. He had to force himself not to rush through prepping Dean, knowing it had been a while since the man lying underneath him had been with anyone. He didn’t want to hurt Dean, but he was having a hard time fighting the urge to just withdraw his fingers and push is throbbing cock into Dean’s ass.  

Dean whined low in his throat when Sam added a third finger, sliding them in and out of his body with ease. He bucked his hips up at the intensity of being opened when Sam spread his fingers. “Sam,” he moaned as pleasure coursed through his body and his hands fisted the sheets. He felt like he was on fire just from Sam’s fingers working him open.

Sam watched, mesmerized as his fingers disappeared into Dean’s body and then reappeared, pulling breathy moans and mewls from the writhing man he was working open. He savored the fact the he was the one doing this to Dean; making him fly apart. When he was able to work his fingers in and out of Dean’s ass without resistance, he pulled his fingers out, slicked his cock up and began to slowly push into Dean’s body.

He reached up and grabbed Sam’s shoulders, needing to anchor himself to the larger man above him as Sam gradually pushed into him and then bottomed out. He felt the burn and stretch of taking all of Sam’s hard cock; it was intense, splitting him open. His breaths were coming hard and fast. Sam was everywhere; on him, in him, kissing him.   

“Dean,” Sam groaned as he stilled his movements, giving the man lying underneath him time to adjust to the feeling of being stretched open on his cock. He hungrily kissed Dean’s lips; distracting him as he tentatively gave a roll of his hips.

“Come on Sam, not gonna break,” he rasped out. He looked up into hazel eyes that held so much love for him and realized that he had never known the tender and caring aspect of making love, only the feeling of hard and fast when it came to sex.

“It’s not about breaking you,” Sam said as he licked a stripe down Dean’s throat. “It’s about loving you,” he murmured as he sucked on Dean’s pulse point, pulling a needy moan from Dean’s lips. He pulled Dean’s hands from his shoulders, entwined their fingers and pushed Dean’s hands down by his shoulders, offering them both the comfort and support he thought they needed.

“Oh God,” Dean hissed through clenched teeth as Sam rolled his hips, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. Dean felt his body begin to relax, allowing Sam to pull out of him, only to languidly push back in. His moans were swallowed when Sam crashed their lips together.

“You feel so good,” Sam husked as he rolled his hips again before pulling out, leaving the head of his cock in Dean before he pushed back in. He mouthed along Dean’s neck, needing to lick and taste as much of Dean’s exposed skin as he could. “Wanted this for so long, dreamed of this,” he groaned out has he quickened his pace, his hips thrusting in and out of Dean.

“ _SamSamSam_ ,” Dean chanted. He thrashed his head from side to side as Sam began to push into him harder. His hips bucked up, trying to meet Sam’s thrusts, intensifying the pleasure Sam was giving him. His eyes rolled back in his head as Sam hit his prostate dead on.

“Want you to touch yourself,” Sam husked out as he guided their entwined hands down to Dean’s stiff cock; he curled Dean’s fingers around the heated flesh and watched as Dean began to stroke himself in a fast rhythm. “So fucking hot.”

“Sam. . .my,” Dean called out, his voice breaking on Sam’s name as Sam thrust into him. “So close,” he moaned.

“Don’t hold back,” Sam grunted in response.

Dean felt his orgasm building and closed his eyes. His body went taut, his back arching off the bed as he came, yelling Sam’s name; coating his stomach and chest in his release.

Sam chased after his own orgasm as he thrust into Dean’s spasming channel; feeling his release build. He wanted to mark Dean inside and out. He hungrily latched on to Dean’s neck, sucking the skin in between his lips; pulling Dean’s blood to the surface of his skin as he came deep inside Dean’s body. Shallowly, he pumped into Dean’s body as they both rode out the afterwaves of their orgasms. Gingerly, he pulled his softening cock from Dean’s ass and flopped onto his back; listening to the sounds of their ragged breathing filling the quiet room. When he had come down from his orgasmic high, he sat up, grabbed Dean’s shirt and wiped the cum off of Dean’s body.

Dean lay there, listening to the sounds of their breathing even out. His eyes were closed as he floated in the blissed out state from Sam making love to him. He had wanted that for so long, for Sam to want him; for Sam to see him as more than just his older brother. And now Sam had and he didn’t think he could ever give Sam up. He hummed in contentment when he felt Sam’s attentiveness at cleaning his chest and stomach. He didn’t have the strength to do it himself, let alone haul himself out of bed, into his wheelchair and maneuver himself into the bathroom to clean himself.

Sam tossed the soiled t-shirt onto the floor, rolled onto his side, threw an arm around Dean’s waist and pulled himself over so that he was molded against Dean’s body. “Wanna marry you,” he breathed out. “Wanna do it tomorrow. I’m yours and you’re mine, that’s the way it’s always been. I’ll always be yours, you’ll always be mine, even in death,” he whispered against the shell of Dean’s ear.

Dean felt the tendrils of happiness snaking around his heart. Sam wanted to marry him. Sam wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. He turned his head to look at Sam, a hint of a smile played across his kiss swollen lips. The word yes was on the tip of his tongue, but he found himself saying something completely different. “Are you sure about that?” He wanted to say yes. He had every intention of saying yes, he just needed to make sure that Sam wasn’t asking because he was caught up in some romantic notion of ‘doing the right thing’ after they had just made love for the first time.

“Yes, I am. Dean, please marry me,” Sam said quietly.

“Yes,” Dean answered and then kissed Sam to seal his promise.

**That had changed everything for them.**

Sam paced back and forth as he waited for Dean. He was jittery and full of nervous energy. Dean was meeting him on campus today so Sam could finally show him around. He took a deep breath and exhaled it with a swoosh of air. He settled himself against the stone pillar to wait. He looked down at his left hand, his eyes focused on the simple silver band he wore on his ring finger. The one that matched the ring Dean wore on his left ring finger. He had made good on his promise to Dean to make him an honest man. It was the only way he could think of to give Dean back their last name without raising too many questions from those around them. And in all honesty, he was never going to love anyone else. Dean was the one. There would never be anyone else that he loved the way he loved Dean; with his heart and soul.

In a simple ceremony at the courthouse the day after they had moved into the apartment together, they had exchanged vows, solidifying their relationship as a couple. Dean had driven them in the Impala and he watched as Dean had grinned from ear to ear as he slid behind the steering wheel. He still needed help getting his chair folded and into the backseat, but he was getting better at it. He felt so much pride and love for Dean, knowing that he hadn’t just curled up into a ball; that Dean had chosen to fight for the life he now had. The life that they had created together. They had been the last couple to be married that day. He still felt the excitement from that day. They had made their way into the room together. He stood by Dean’s side; his right hand holding Dean’s left hand tightly. He had beamed down at Dean and saw the shy smile that graced Dean’s lips. He was about to kiss Dean when the judge had interrupted them.

“So are you two ready to get married?’ the female judge had asked.

“Yes,” they had responded together.

“Then let’s make this official,” the honorable judge Louise Elliott had said. “Do you Sam Winchester take Dean to be your husband?”

“I do,” Sam had happily said.

With a shake of her head, she repeated those words to Dean.

“I do,” Dean had responded quietly and had squeezed Sam’s hand.

“By the power vested in me the state of California, I now pronounce you husbands, congratulations,” she had said, giving them a moment to kiss each other before calling them over to sign their marriage certificate, enabling Dean to take back the Winchester name.

As he held their marriage license, Sam’s eyes widened. “Dean,” he gasped out.

“What Sam?” Dean asked in a concerned voice.

“We forgot to get rings.” How could he have forgotten that? He was sure Dean was about to make a comment about how he was acting like a girl, but Dean hadn’t.

“So, we’ll go get them now. Doesn’t change anything,” Dean had said and then had pulled Sam down for another kiss.

“Hey,” a whisky smooth voice called to Sam.

The sound of that voice pulled him from his memory. Sam turned from the stone archway he had been leaning against. A dimpled grin appeared on his face as he looked in the direction of the voice to see Dean moving toward him. “Hey,” he said in response and felt his insides flutter as Dean smiled at him like he was the only one that mattered.

“So, I’m here, like I promised.” He had been on campus a few times when he had been dropping Sam off on his way to work, but had never taken the time to tour it. He had surprised the younger man when, out of the blue, he had asked Sam to show him around. Stanford mattered to Sam, so it mattered to him. His heart stuttered and his hands faltered over his wheels when Sam turned to him, a look of pure happiness on Sam’s face that was directed at him. God, he loved his husband more than he could ever put into words. And shouldn’t that be strange? Sam was his husband. He no longer thought of Sam as his brother. That thought had gone out the window the moment they had both said ‘I do’ to each other and slipped on the simple matching silver wedding bands they both now sported. Of course, they had done things backwards; getting married and then buying their rings. But whatever, it wasn’t like their relationship was a conventional one. It wasn’t; it was just their life now. And he knew he would do whatever it took to make Sam happy. He’d lay down his life if that was what it took. He would lay waste to the world if anyone tried to separate them. He’d offer up his soul, burn in Hell to make sure that nothing and no one hurt Sam. Sam had spoken the truth when he had said, ‘ _I’m yours and you’re mine, that’s the way it’s always been. I’ll always be yours, you’ll always be mine, even in death_ ’. It had just taken them a while to figure that out.

Sam closed the distance between them, reached out to lovingly run his fingers over Dean’s cheek before leaning down to capture Dean’s lips in a searing kiss. He didn’t care who saw them. He had stopped caring about what others might think of him and Dean being together that night in the hospital when he had finally confessed his feelings for Dean. And now, Dean was his husband. He had claimed the one person who was always meant to be his. He didn’t miss the looks that Dean got when they were out together. They just fuel his passion for the older man and on more than one occasion, Dean had experienced first hand how possessive and passionate he could get. “Let me know if it gets to be too much,” he said as he broke the kiss and stepped back from Dean. “I don’t wanna tire you out, not like that,” he said slyly and watched Dean wiggle his eyebrows in response. “Come on, my old dorm is this way,” he chuckled and placed his right hand on the back of Dean’s wheelchair so they could move together. That was the closest they could get to holding hands, since Dean needed both hands free in order to move his chair.

“Okay, Sam. Show me around,” Dean responded.

They had stopped for a bite to eat after the campus tour, which gave Dean time to relax the muscles in his arms before they headed home. Dean had worked up an appetite from working that morning at the garage and then meeting up with Sam. He hadn’t wanted to say anything to Sam as they made their way back to the Impala but he needed a break. He just didn’t want to disappoint his husband by cutting their day short. Somehow, Sam had sensed it and had suggested they stop at their favorite diner for dinner. As he took the last bite of his bacon cheeseburger he saw Sam studying him.

“You’re tired. Why didn’t you say something?” Sam asked quietly. He wasn’t mad; he just didn’t understand why Dean felt the need to push himself.

“Didn’t want to disappoint you. And I figured you could massage my tired, aching body later,” he chuckled out.

“Yeah, well next time tell me. You wouldn’t have disappointed me,” Sam said as he pushed his empty plate away from himself. “I’m serious. Don’t pull shit like that with me again.”

Dean wiped his hands on his napkin and reached over to thread the fingers of his left hand with Sam’s. “Okay, I promise. I’ll say something. Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. I just worry about you pushing yourself too hard. You’ve always done that. You’re not alone, you know. You have me.”

“I know. You’re mine and I’m yours,” he said as he dropped the napkin on his plate. “You ready to get outta here and go home?”

“Yeah, I’ll pay and meet you at the car,” Sam said as he stood and waited for Dean to maneuver around the diner to the front door.

They had been home for nearly two hours when they had been interrupted. Dean had gotten his second wind and had suggested they pick a movie to watch on the ride up to their floor in the elevator. Sam was settled comfortably on the couch, with Dean near him, as they watched a movie he had picked out. The ringing of Dean’s cell phone had Sam reaching for the remote to pause the movie. He had a feeling this call would take a while for Dean to wrap up. Sam watched as Dean answered his phone; a grin cut across the older man’s face as Dean spoke to the caller.

“Hey, Deacon. Whatcha got for me?” Dean asked as he wheeled himself toward the office. “Hmm? Yeah could be a number of things.” Dean’s voice trailed as he disappeared from Sam’s sight.

Sam shook his head as his lips twitched up into a fond smile directed at Dean’s retreating form. He grabbed the remote and turned off the TV and DVD player. There was no sense keeping them on. Not when a hunter called needing Dean’s help. He heard Dean’s muffled voice. Dean wasn't able to hunt any longer, but he was still able to help. Dean still felt like he was vital to those who needed his help and he would never take that away from Dean. He settled back down, ready to pick up his book when his head shot up at the sound of Dean’s voice.

“Hey, Sam, you coming or what?”

“Yeah, on my way,” he answered as he pushed himself up from the couch he had been sitting on and followed Dean into the office. He leaned against the doorframe and watched as Dean grabbed one of their lore books and flipped it open. Dean glanced at him and gave him a blinding smile and then mouthed ‘Love you’ before dropping his eyes back to the book in front of him. He felt his heart stop as he took in the sight before his eyes; Dean healthy and happy. The man he had loved for so long was his. He knew life for them would be difficult at times and not just because of Dean’s injury. They weren’t just brothers but lovers and now a married couple. They had to protect that at all costs from those who wouldn’t understand their love for each other; from those in their past that knew their true story. But, together they could weather anything that life threw at them.

“Flesh eating? Heart torn out?” Dean asked, his curiosity peeking at what he was listening to.

Sam walked over to their expansive collection of books and grabbed one that had been out of Dean’s reach and placed it down in front of him. He heard the murmured ‘Thanks’ and felt Dean’s fingers ghost over the back of his hand before Dean flipped the book open and pointed at a passage, drawing his attention in. He leaned over, blanketing Dean’s body with his own as he read what Dean was pointing at.

In that moment nothing else mattered to either of them; the world and all their problems dissolved, ceasing to exist. It was just them, together as it had always been and would always be, even in death.


End file.
